


What Could Have Been

by I_Write_Tragedies_Not_Sins



Series: Nately- AUs, Canon Divergent, and More [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 01:17:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3672066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Write_Tragedies_Not_Sins/pseuds/I_Write_Tragedies_Not_Sins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathaniel Howe loses the one person he has loved since childhood. Dark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Mother screams, lips separating in an angry growl that echoes with rage. I bring out my bow and begin firing, dodging tentacles and trying to keep an eye on Ely at the same time. The Children come at us from behind and I soon lose her in the chaos.

A tentacle knocks me to the ground and I feel a rib crack. The cool, uplifting feeling of Anders' healing magic washes over me soon after. A rumble comes from beneath and shakes the ground. I roll quickly to my left, narrowly escaping another tentacle.

I leap to my feet and watch as Ely begins to climb the body of the creature using her long sword and dagger. I aim my arrows as quickly as I can at the beast, desperate to protect her.

But it isn't quickly enough.

The Mother reaches across its body and grabs Ely, shaking her and screaming into the air. It flings away from itself and I watch as my Ely lands against the rock wall.

My heart feels like it will burst as I bellow my rage. I shoot as many arrows as I can into the beast's head as Justice throws his sword at it. It flies straight through its mouth, and its body spasms a few times before falling limp.

I shout to Anders to heal her as I run to Ely's body. She lay bent at a strange angle, and a sliver of rock is pierced through her neck.

_She can't die. She can't. Maker, please, don't let her die._

I hold her hand in mine, so small but calloused and strong. I use my free hand to check her pulse, and breath a sigh of relief. It's there, though barely, fluttering beneath my fingertips.

"Nathaniel…" I hear her say, voice cracked and tired, barely above a whisper.

I murmur softly to her, inconsequential words of reassurance. Anders will heal her. She'll be fine. She has to be okay.

I look up at Anders and his eyes are filled with tears. He's shaking his head and muttering something about  _too much damage._ Nonsense. She's going to be fine, isn't she?

I look back at Ely and her eyes are beginning to gloss over. Her eyelids are fluttering, like she's struggling to keep them open. Blood trickles out of her mouth.

I shout out up the mage, he's lying, he's wrong, something, anything… I'm not even coherent, just angry, too angry to think.

I stop when I feel her hand twitch, like she's trying to squeeze it but lacks the strength. I look down at her notice a few tears staining her cheeks.

But she isn't the one crying. I wipe my tears from her cheeks, her skin sticky with blood.

"It's so cold," she whispers and my heart breaks a little more. "Nathaniel, why is it so cold?"

I'm crying openly as I stroke her cheek. "Shhh… you'll be fine," I mumble.

"Nathaniel? Nathaniel… where…"

I watch as her eyelids flutter close and the stench of death overwhelmed me. My hands shake as I stared at her, the shock settling into me.

She wasn't dead.

She couldn't be.

She was too strong. I needed her too much. She couldn't have just left me like this.

Right?

_"I love you, silly girl. I always have."_


	2. Chapter 2

I'm drinking again today. The liquor burns down my throat, pouring hot vengeance that tastes like hatred and ashes.

So, of course my thoughts turn to her. Long black hair that feels like silk. Weather coloured skin and eyes that shine with light blue fire.

Because as my mind clouds over and the pain floods my heart

She is the first thing that I think of.

And when I'm sober...

It's exactly the same thing.

I hate her.

And I love her.

It's insane. Sometimes I wish I'd never known her, never loved her, never felt the pain of losing her. Never felt the bliss of holding her in my arms, her tiny frame fitting perfectly within the circle of my embrace. The feel of her lips, crushed against mine in fevered passion. I can still taste her, feel her, smell her. Every part of her is embossed on my mind.

My mind belongs to her. Every memory worth remembering. Every moment worthy of reliving.

Most of the time, I imagine she's still here, voice raised as she argues with me. Her eyes bright and furious, lips and brow pinched together a tight line. Her cheeks would be red and splotchy, mottled with her passion and anger. I'd swoop her up for kiss and remember too late she wasn't really there.

Or sometimes she'd be curled into my side, a soft, contented smile on her face as we sat by the fireplace. She'd laugh and blush and call me a prat and I'd tease her and hold her close, forgetting that the truth was I'd never hold her again.

Always she is with me. I can't imagine life without her.

I grasp outwards with open palms, stretching, reaching, begging for her but there's no one to see my pleas. A twisted shout rips itself from my lips, my voice echoing off the walls, myself answering myself in rage.

Why didn't I stop her? Why couldn't I forget?

I couldn't save her.

I failed.

And now... I'm alone.

  


 


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